[ she's dead and gone the moment he moves towards her, melting with a groan in the back of her throat as his mouth claims her own, her hands looping up around his neck by instinct alone when he tugs her forward. god, but he knows how to handle her; there's barely a second that passes after he asks the (presumably rhetorical) question before daisy breathes out an easy, effortless, ] Nobody.
[ but it's true, really. nobody ever has, she doubts anyone ever will. he's gotten under her skin, found all the little things that make her tick, even gone so far as to teach her things she likes that she never would have dreamed of alone. ]
Are you gonna fuck me, or are you still mad at me for stealing your shirt?
[ pretty please, breathed out in all but words, nails scraping gently along the nape of his neck as his mouth skims over her skin. ]
no subject
[ but it's true, really. nobody ever has, she doubts anyone ever will. he's gotten under her skin, found all the little things that make her tick, even gone so far as to teach her things she likes that she never would have dreamed of alone. ]
Are you gonna fuck me, or are you still mad at me for stealing your shirt?
[ pretty please, breathed out in all but words, nails scraping gently along the nape of his neck as his mouth skims over her skin. ]